Lust to Dust
by Andromeda2050
Summary: An AU from Elegy of the Phoenix in which Gladiolus is falsely arrested for the murder of a rebel Glaive, and Nyxia hits a downward spiral. Rated M for smut, language, and dark themes.


Even after ten minutes of deafening silence, the echoes of Gladio's screaming filled the hallways as the police officers took him away from her. She had tried convincing Cor it wasn't him - he was here in the apartment at the Glaive's time of death.

"Try explaining that to them when there's camera footage that says otherwise," his voice returned from the other end of the phone line. He could hear her crying, and he took on a different tone. "Look, I'm not saying I don't believe you, Nyxia, but...they'll never believe someone else took his appearance and set him up. Especially not a dead man..."

For a moment, Nyxia was silent, save for a couple of sniffles. Her head hung as she sat on the couch of the lonely apartment - though Prompto and Ignis were on their way and would be here soon.

Once they arrived, she sat with them in the living room. It was difficult to iron out her thoughts, but she would explain to them what happened.

"I was...doing the laundry in the bedroom," she started, as if trying to replay everything in her head as best as she could.

She remembered Gladio was in the living room, doing push-ups with some comedy show playing in the background. That was when they came charging in - a group of seven men in black, armored suits. They broke down the door without even announcing themselves. It took them four of them alone just to knock Gladio down, and that was by the time she had come into the room to find out what the hell was going on.

They said he was under arrest for the murder of Felix Milton. Gladio was beyond the control of his rage to calmly tell them it wasn't him - that he had been here with her. Instead, he was throwing one of them off of him, severely injuring the officer. Nyxia tried to explain that to the men, but they were already tranquilizing him with a needle before he could do any more damage to the living room and the officers.

And just like that, her Shield was gone.

"If anything, they'll charge him for assault of an officer," Ignis sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he would cross his arms.

"I was afraid his short circuit would get him in trouble one of these days," Prompto said. "We gotta get him out."

"That would be unwise," Ignis insisted. "Breaking him out of jail will only make criminals of ourselves. It's best that we try to approach them calm and collectively." He looked at Nyxia, who was sitting on the couch, her head hung as she stared at the ground.

It seemed nothing could go right for an extended amount of time.

"Xia, it'll be okay," Prompto said. "We'll get him back."

She felt his hand on her shoulder, and she jumped slightly. She hoped he was right. Gladio was everything to her.

Ignis assured he would go to the courthouse first thing in the morning to try and talk some sense into them. There were multiple witnesses that could say that Gladiolus had been at the apartment - even if it wasn't solid proof. How he planned to counter their "proof" that Gladio was at the scene of the crime, she wasn't sure. Not many people in Eos had heard of shapeshifting as a usable magic, after all.

Nyxia tried to keep her mind occupied in their absence, but it wasn't easy. She prayed to whatever god would listen that Gladio would make it out okay. Until then, she knew she needed to be strong for him.

Days passed. They would not allow visitation nor bail. They wouldn't even allow Ignis to see the camera footage when he insisted on seeing it for himself. It led him to question whether or not it even existed.

Some nights made it difficult to sleep, especially without her Shield next to her. She never expressed her paranoia to the others - that Ardyn would eventually come to her one night.

Which was ridiculous, because she watched him die right in front of her.

She just didn't want to be a nuisance to Ignis and Prompto.

She spent a lot of nights awake, though keeping her mind off of the stress proved quite difficult even when she tried to distract herself. Painting the walls reminded her too much of Gladio. The television frequently had something that struck too close to home, be it family deaths or lost loves.

She kept trying to tell herself that Ignis would find a way. He would get Gladiolus out somehow, someway. It might take some time, but until then, they all just needed to be composed.

Any time she did manage to dose off, even for a little while, she had nightmares. She would be on the road with the three of them. All would seem fine at first, but then, something would go wrong. Ignis wasn't himself, or Prompto behaved differently. Gladiolus would be more short-tempered than usual, or pretend that they never had a relationship to begin with. Yet, deep inside, she would know the truth.

The Accursed was somehow involved in their behavior, twisting them against her.

Other dreams were much worse. One made her relive the night when Ardyn had raped her and revealed his true, daemonic nature to her. Others further had her questioning her friends' identities - Ignis would torture her, his eyes burnt out and black. She would get into an argument with Prompto before he would fire his pistol at her...

Then, she'd wake up in her bedroom, or even on the living room couch. What followed would be a heavy feeling of dread - as if she felt like she was not alone in the apartment. Until she located familiarity around her, it was hard to even be sure if she was actually awake or not. It took time to go back to sleep - sometimes she didn't manage to even get that far.

Days turned into weeks, though they were beginning to feel like years. When her exhaustion had become obvious to the eyes of others like Iris, she was told to go home and get some rest. Iris seemed to be handling herself better, despite her brother being imprisoned for murder. Like Nyxia, she was convinced he had to be innocent. She also seemed to be more mentally sound.

With Nyxia being so unsteady and tired, more and more, it was becoming evident to the Glaives that Nyxia simply could not function well enough to keep her job at the headquarters. Cor excused her from her position, though had told her if she was able to get some help and find normality again, she would be allowed to come back.

Prompto, who had made himself a hunter to collect bounty from time to time, offered her an opportunity to get out and earn some income with him. They could fight alongside each other, he urged, just like old times. Nyxia, however, had been feeling as if the very life within her was being sucked out by the stress. She didn't know how to cooperate with it. Even with Prompto's support, she just felt...empty.

Not to mention, she found trust in anyone to be problematic.

After a couple of months, it got to the point where Nyxia wouldn't even leave her apartment. Anyone who tried to reach out to her would be turned away. Ignis stopped bringing her homemade snacks. Prompto and Iris stopped sending her calls and texts. Evelina had also tried making a couple of attempts to help her, only able to conclude that Nyxia had fallen into a psychotic depression.

She still ate, though not quite as much as she usually did. While there wasn't a noticeable change in her weight, the tiredness in her face suggested that she was not healthy. But every time she closed her eyes, it was as if her nightmares were simply waiting for her...

On the last night of January, Nyxia was stirred into consciousness from a dream of her mother - it was just the way she had imagined that she had died in Altissia, except much more gruesome. She saw the daemons tear into her flesh, killing her slowly. The maggots that found her would crawl in and out of every visible orifice. Even with her eyes opened to the darkness, the terrifying image echoed in her mind. Unable to suppress the urge to vomit on the sheets, the haunt left her awake for the rest of the night.

She at least found the energy to clean the sheets, as well as her clothes and her own body. However, the image haunted her throughout the entirety of the cold, rainy day. Nyxia hoped to find some peace by praying to her mother's spirit. There was her mother's wedding ring in her jewelry box - though she never wore it, she kept it as a memory since Natalia passed.

However, as she opened the lid of the box, Nyxia went into a panic. The jewel wasn't there. She couldn't remember if she had actually set eyes on it since she moved into the apartment, but could she really have been so careless as to have left it behind during the move?

Nyxia practically had turned the apartment upside down to try and find it, but after hours of searching, she had no luck. Furniture was upturned and knocked over. By the time she had given up, the place looked as if it had been hit by a storm.

The girl fell to the kitchen floor in surrender, her head in her hands. She was the worst daughter. The worst person in this world to do everything she had done. She was only good at letting people down, it seemed, and this hadn't been the first time. Countless times, she had disappointed her friends by making stupid mistakes. Now, she had scared them away. She couldn't blame them for not wanting to see her like this.

"Mom... Dad... I'm sorry..."

Nyxia couldn't hold back the tears anymore. While they were brief, it hurt like hell. The family she had was gone. They weren't coming back, but up in the skies, they probably looked at her with shaking heads and frowns of disappointment.

She was supposed to help protect this world, and yet, she couldn't even protect herself and the people closest to her.

* * *

It was awfully late to be making a visit to the Curian HQ of Glaives, but Nyxia was certain that if the ring belonging to her mother was anywhere to be found, it would be here. Nyxia was certain she had left it behind in her old room, though couldn't be sure exactly where it might be now. Through all of the renovations, it could be lost forever, but she had to at least try.

Her mother meant so much to her - it would have been dishonorable if she didn't at least make an honest attempt to look for it - though it was probably bad enough that she had misplaced it at all.

Nyxia stepped through the main doors. They weren't locked, as the headquarters were always open to hunters and Glaives, whether they needed medical assistance or a task designated to them. However, Nyxia was surprised to see there was no one at the front desk. As a matter of fact, the place seemed quite empty, though the lights were on still.

Strange - usually, there were a couple of Glaives patrolling the halls of the once-palace.

Nyxia supposed it might be best. She could go without raised questions as to why she was here. Besides, with the events of everything, she wasn't exactly their favorite person, regardless that she had given this building to their cause.

The layout still remained relatively the same, which allowed the former queen to navigate to the second floor quite easily. There were many memories in these halls - some good, some not so much. She could still recall the sickening feeling she had when she watched her father jump in front of her to take the sword for her. Nyxia had not been ready to be Queen of Curia at that point - her downward spiral into darkness had been proof of that. Instead, Ardyn had taken to corrupting her in hopes to make her _his_ queen - a daemoness that would kill the world instead of heal it.

In the end, he contradicted his efforts by taking his own life to save hers - something Nyxia wasn't sure she could ever fully get over. She had lost him before, lost so much more than that, as well... Her entire family was gone. Everyone had turned their backs on her for the poor choices she had made. Gladio was in prison for life. And yet, she was still standing, even if just barely.

No one would shed a tear if she died.

Pushing those darker thoughts aside, Nyxia located her old bedroom. The door was closed, but unlocked. Save for the fact that it had been completely emptied out, it hadn't been touched. The walls and carpet were still the same - even the drapes were still intact on the numerous windows that lined the walls. Nyxia stepped inside, making her way towards the balcony. She always used to love coming out here. It was peaceful, being able to see the city way down below with its many lights. Yet, there were many memories out there on the streets, too...

Nyxia pushed them away before they got too close, retreating back inside. However, as she faced the door she had come through, she spotted a shape against the corner closest to it. She hadn't noticed it before, but...it wasn't possible.

The curvaceous cello she had kept all this time sat, though without its case, against the wall. She distinctly remembered throwing it out. Why was it here, and how did it get here?

The damn Glaives... they probably saw it in the dumpster and decided to clean it up and hang onto it. Why would they do something as cruel as that? It triggered nothing but painful memories - all of which she just wanted to forget. Yet, Nyxia felt herself drawn to the instrument, lifting a hand to the neck and stroking it briefly. It looked completely unscathed, as if it had never made it to the trash pile. She took her hand away immediately. It felt cold to the touch. Something was wrong.

Thunder rumbled in the very distance, and after a few seconds, there was a flash of lightning. Against the wall, she thought she caught a glimpse of a shadow - a thickly-clothed silhouette with a hat on the top of its head.

"N-no..."

Nyxia turned to the balcony quickly, but there was no one standing there to cast such a shadow. Her heart raced, beating against her chest as if it was ready to burst. Then, there came another flicker of nature's wrath - one much more brighter and louder than the last. Nyxia jumped, but her terror only multiplied as she watched an inky substance pool and trickle from the corners of the ceiling, dripping down like black blood. She found herself backing out of the room, though as she did, she was only walking into darkness. There was a power surge - the impending storm outside had cut off all the lights in the palace, leaving her shrouded in near darkness as she would break into a run. She wasn't sure where to go, only as long as it was away from whatever daemon was pursuing her - and she dreaded the possibility of who it might be.

As if to confirm her greatest fear, an all-too-familiar, titillating voice rang through the corridor, though it seemed to be coming from all directions.

 _"Tell me of a tragedy, my sweet."_

Nyxia's boots carried her faster through the hallway, but the stairs that were supposed to take her down seemed to ascend, instead. She panicked, halting midway to contemplate. What was happening? This had to be the right way... The reconstruction couldn't have been that out of whack. Or was she truly going insane?

Was this all in her head?

"People condemn the monsters they create, and yet... what does a monster see when it looks into a mirror?" Ardyn's voice gave a pause, just a small window of time enough to allow her a shudder of discomfort as she tried to determine her next move. "It sees all of those that made it."

Nyxia ran further up, her mind only more and more hazed as she tried to find her way around the halls. Now, through the sinister dimness of the halls, the dripping blood on the walls seemed to trail after her.

"You know of what I speak. They condemned us both, my pet..."

The words hadn't fully registered until she reached a door, shuffling with the handle, yet, it wouldn't budge open. She kicked the door in desperation, yet, before she could get the barrier to give, her body was pushed forward, and two arms boxed her in. Nyxia stared at the gloved hands that leaned on the door in front of her, knowing too well the source of the chill that she felt against her back. Ardyn was right there, as if he had never left - death, in the form of a man she had once been ready to die for.

"You'd best choose your next move carefully, my dear. It appears our game is not yet over."

"Y...you're not real... You can't be..." She denied, the words dying on her tongue.

His whisper fanned her ear, a contradicting warmth to what was around her. "No?" A hand now pulled away her copper hair from the side of her face. There was a sharp pain just above her pearl stud as his teeth nipped at her ear. "I must confess, it broke my heart, watching you mourn over my dead body. And yet, everything went so swimmingly."

Her heart lurched into her stomach, and it felt like a knife twisted into it. "You tricked me... How!?" she demanded, wriggling against him in hopes to pry him off. Yet, his hand seized her by the front of the neck to silence her.

"And spoil all the fun?" he replied lightly. "I think not."

She had stopped fighting, though her breath strained to escape beneath his grip. "Then...why now?" Her voice struggled.

"Your friends, your Shield, in particular... You've left them all behind. What better way for me to provide you with one, crucial reminder..." Nyxia tried to turn her head to look at him, but his tightening grip on her neck was at odds with his playful tone. "Ah, ah... Not yet..." She choked out something, though it was incoherent. "You should remember, I'm immortal. Such is my blessing, and such is my curse." Behind her, his chuckle sounded more sinister, if that had even been possible. She felt his thumb brush over her bottom lip, and for a moment, her resolve faltered, as if he had flipped a switch. "You could never be rid of me. No matter what you change..." Suddenly, he snatched her hair around the middle of its length, yanking back her head. "No matter to what end of what world you might slither to, I will always find my way back to you."

Nyxia didn't know whether to fight or give in. Ardyn was never a force to be reckoned with, immortal or not. She realized then that the entire act was a placebo; the darkness had never left her, much as he had never left. There was no running from this, as he had made perfectly clear. Finally, she began telling herself something that, deep in the back of her mind, she was certain she already knew:

In order to get out of hell, she'd have to dance with the devil.

The door suddenly opened, seemingly on its own accord. Nyxia all but stumbled into the room, The Accursed casually stalking in after her. The collapsed door gave a submissive creak beneath his shoe as he stepped inside. She was only all the more confused as she found herself in the same bedroom as before, except that all of the furniture was here...and so was the midnight tar seeping down the walls - some streaks closer to the ground than others.

Just as Nyxia managed to raise herself from the ground, Ardyn was already grabbing her by the back of her shirt, shoving her towards the vanity table. She barely managed to catch herself on its edge, and as her green eyes glimpsed into the mirror, she spotted him approaching from behind, discarding his hat.

"Stop fucking with me!" she hissed at him, though before she could turn herself around, he once again had her pinned. She could see the amused face in his reflection, his devilish grin working its way against her ear.

"You're so ferocious..." He spun her around, and in a flash of movement, her top was torn from her chest as if it was made of paper.

"Maybe that's exactly what you need."

His tone suggested something much more sensual than she had intended, but coming from him, that was no real surprise.

"You know that's not what I meant!" she resisted with a scowl, but it didn't weaken his charm in the slightest.

"Did no one teach you to be cautious of your words?" he asked, his breath fanning the swell of her breast. "You've always been such a tease."

Air rushed into her lungs, and for a split moment, she couldn't help but imagine letting her legs fall open to him, as they had many times before.

"Go on. Prove to me that you are immune."

Pushing her into a challenge, Ardyn slid his hand over her thigh, tracing the polyester skirt in skillful motions. Nyxia felt her body clench, spreading its secrets into the space between them, betraying her in an instant, no matter how much she begged it not to.

She bit through a moan, her bottom lip pinched beneath her pearl whites. She couldn't help it, even when she instantly remembered there was something about that subtle animation that always drove Ardyn crazy.

"I... I can't..." she breathed, her surrender leaving the taste of filth in her mouth. That was a lie. It wasn't that she couldn't - it was simply that she didn't want to. Somehow, surrendering beneath his caress was the one thing that brought her any peace within the past, several months.

"A sovereign beauty, bending to my mercy," he chortled, his hands riding up her back to unhook the clasp of her bra. "Fate will ensure we do this dance until the world collapses in on itself."

 _No..._ She restrained. She wouldn't simply bend to his mercy.

If she was destined to be The Usurper's queen, then by the Astrals, she would not let him conquer her. She would not be a slave.

She growled huskily, her hand seizing the prodigious hardness that was pressed against her body. It was time to give _him '_ one, crucial reminder':

She could make him squirm, too...

Rewarded with the slightest of gasps, Nyxia took no time to pause. Something was clawing to get out of her, to unleash something horrible and animalistic. Her other hand found his burgundy locks, grasping their roots. With a hard tug, she leaned up to kiss his neck. He seemed more than welcoming to the attention, at first. His fingers rolled over her back in a firm caress. Then, suddenly, she felt his hand in her hair, yanking back her head.

"A war for supremacy, is it?" he uttered, his lascivious grin stirring her all the more. "There is no victory to be won in this game, my pet." She was spun around to face the mirror again, her breasts crushed into the top of the table. Yet, through the reflection, the same, inky substance that still adorned the room's walls now trickled down his face. "At least, not for you."

She had only seen his daemonic side like this a couple of times before; the first time terrified her beyond belief. Now, however, it was almost as if her desires were too elevated for her to even care. Her body wiggled before him, serving as a certain assistance as he tore down her skirt and took her. Though his passage into her soaking wet confines was too easy, she still moaned - much louder than she anticipated she would. It had been months since she felt this kind of ecstasy, and even longer since she had felt it at its prime with _him_.

She felt as if her body could shatter into a hundred pieces, but at the same time, she had always been able to handle the ferociousness Ardyn usually practiced in the bedroom. She had matched his stamina many times before, and now that it was evident that her daemons still plagued her, now was no different.

Beneath her, the wooden furniture was pounded against the wall, each thump adding excessive noise to their exchange. It would have left a crack in the wall, though she hadn't noticed it. She was too absorbed in how hungry her body was for a release - how desperately she wanted him to fuck her into exhaustion - and that would take a while. After some time, he turned her around, roughly lifting her onto the top of the vanity table before he would continue his conquest. She would tear at his layers, peeling off each one throughout the violent thrusts. As she did, he kissed her violently, his lips leaving the taste of copper in her mouth and a smear of blackness on her face.

Soon, her body would tense, and she knew she was close to her climax. Yet, as soon as she made her realization, the chancellor knew it, too. He would stop without warning, then move slowly inside of her, his husky voice causing the little hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. "Not yet," he demanded. Only for a moment had she been thrown back into the mouth of submission. What was he going to do to her if she disobeyed?

Damn it all. She would come when she ready, and that was all there was to it. Displaying her boldness, and perhaps foolishness, she wrapped her legs around his toned body and leaned back, her hips gyrating forward to urge the process. Ardyn growled, though the sound leaked more with pleasure than it did frustration. Enticed by the sight of her, he would only keep going.

After all, how could he resist his queen?

Her cries of delight filled the room like steam from a hot shower, her lips quivering as she would finally reach a piqued ecstasy. In her overwhelming senses, she barely heard him speak. "Disobedient she-devil," he would say through a smirk, his thrusts slowing, though he hadn't finished yet.

Nyxia, who had lost all sense of herself, gave him a challenging look. "And what are you going to do about it? Punish me?" She grabbed his chin, sitting up on the table and using her legs to pull him deeper into her core.

"I think I might need to arrange that."

Perhaps he thought she was sugarcoating her definition of punish - but the masochist in her most certainly wasn't. As if to prove her point, she brushed her thumb over his lips, her muscles tightening around his as she watched him teasingly bite it.

"Do your worst."

He sealed her lips with a fervent kiss - a silent promise that he would do just that. Fingers clasped about her throat, and she was flung to the other side of the room, where she landed on the four-poster bed. Her body bounced once atop the mattress, though before it settled in, he was already on top of her, pinning her into the mattress. That tiny sliver of fear beneath everything else only seemed to serve as a catalyst for her growing lust; it was a hard thing to explain, and perhaps the daemonic energy in the room was the only thing that possibly could make sense out of it. Her body struggled briefly as Ardyn held her down, yet as he took her again, it contradicted itself. By the sheer force against his thrusts, her thighs blushed with every impact, and yet, she craved for more. The best way to increase his efforts was to challenge them.

She would use a violent kiss as a distraction, and it worked just enough for her to push him back and mount him. She'd fuck him like she never had before, as if his return was the start of the end of the world - and it was possible that it very well could be.

 _I'm not yours. If anything, you are mine..._

Her nails dragged against his chest, leaving behind an echo of scratches in their wake that would have drawn blood, had he merely been a mortal. She hammered down on him like a machine, fighting to reach her release. He could have stopped her, but instead, Ardyn seemed far too awestruck to take back the reins, his face void of the daemonic streaks now as he let her take control. His hands rested on her hips, riding their waves as she sought her fulfillment. When she finally came, and her cries filled the chamber, she hadn't noticed right away that the warmth of his seed had taken shelter inside of her. Her body quivered in satisfaction, even jumped as she felt him push up against her. His climax had done nothing to soften him up.

But before she could fully recuperate, he was already pushing her face-first into the headboard.

"I'm not done with you yet."

The glossy wetness made his re-entry so easy, even though Nyxia had only taken a couple of seconds to writhe in protest. Even still, as her knees sank into the mattress and she gripped at the wooden panel in front of her, she was entirely at the mercy of his hunger for domination. Her fingers clutched at the top of the board; it was the only thing she could grab hold of to stabilize herself as he would thrust into her again. For a moment, she was reminded that this was the worst thing she could possibly do, but it wasn't enough to snuff out the pleasure her body felt.

Nyxia sounded a moan, surrendering to her primal desire once again. Her body would bounce forward freely, even as he would pull her back by the roots of her hair. It hurt only a little, and only for a second. Her body lifted, straightening itself as if she had been pulled back by a lever. Her back was flush against him as he took her still. His nails dragged like claws into her thigh, eliciting a gasp from her that would interrupt her moans. Still, it felt amazing, as if everything in the world suddenly made sense again.

And maybe that was just an illusion.


End file.
